HetaOni: Crossing the Clocks
by CodeLyoko
Summary: Yet another turn comes to an unfortunate end and the clock is forced to rewind. However, something strange happens when time is reversed; a tear forms in two realities and they overlap. Faced with alternate versions of themselves that are in the same situation, they have to figure out how to get out while avoiding being killed by each other and the monsters within. 1P meets 2P.
1. Chapter 1

Jessie: Hey everyone~ Yet another project being spun from these fingers! I can say that this idea originated from VargenSaphia on deviantart who suggested how interesting it would be for 1P and 2P to merge into the same timeline in HetaOni. Naturally, I loved the idea and quickly added it to my list. For those of you who like the idea, please keep reading, if you don't like the possibilities of your favorite characters dying or having to encounter 2P Steve, I suggest you high tail it outta here! Jokes aside, I do hope you enjoy this, and when you review, feel free to give ideas or your views on how you think these may go. This story will be more interactive than my others, as who knows which characters are going to go first! Enjoy!

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Again and again the same result destroyed the Italian's carefully thought out plans. No matter what actions he took, he was always forced to use the journal to go back and try again. Gritting his teeth and falling to the ground, the journal dropped from his hand, opening to a random page. Clutching his hair, almost wanting to tear it out in frustration, he let out a cry of sorrow. Tears fled the safety of his eyelids, escaping to trail down flushed cheeks to freedom.

"Why?" he whimpered, head swimming. His head was already hurting, flashes of the loops before this one bombarding his mind. Images of all the other nations dead or dying flickered like an old movie reel, taunting and teasing him. He didn't want to see the two nations that lay before him, dead, their eyes forever closed. He should have been stronger than this, he had kept up his mask for so long, to act like nothing was wrong and that he had no idea what was going on alone. But now he was breaking down, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. This was Germany and Japan… His friends, his allies. They supported him through so much, and yet he couldn't do anything to save them. And of course they were headed towards the piano room… The Japanese island nation had always died there…

He just wanted to get everyone out of that mansion.

"They must have turned left instead of right and gotten ambushed." An English accent coated the words as the sensation of a hand formed on his shoulder. Although the Englishman was trying not to show it, he was dismayed at the sight of the massive slash wounds on Japan and Germany as well as the pool of blood that surrounded them. To see the immortal beings slain like mere humans… It was eerie and terrifying. From what Italy had told him, and the two recently deceased nations, he knew that unless all of the nations were saved, Italy had to keep rewinding time. He understood exactly why he didn't tell them about what was going on at first during each cycle. And from what he remembered Italy mentioning, the first time he tried that, everyone ignored him. Amber eyes slowly opened again, letting the tears freely fall instead of trying to stop them anymore. It was almost funny… His eyes were starting to remain open more and more as the loops went by… From the fifteenth loop, it had gotten so frequent that now they remained open all the time.

A dry chuckle almost made its way to his lips, getting caught in his throat. Every loop since then, the nations were confused on why his eyes were opened. He never answered them or even tried to explain, he just did what he did best - act totally clueless and play the card of being useless. Except, the latter became harder and harder to hold onto; he had learned to fight over those many loops, now knowing the layout of the mansion like it was the back of his hand. It was something that was hard to keep under wraps. The other nations were catching onto it quicker as each loops passed. Lowering his eye further, he spotted his journal in front of him. It was amusing how everyone had thought it was a holy bible at first; at least it kept them from realizing the truth. They didn't even remember, in the first loop, when he had picked it up in the library, although at that time, it hadn't been important until the last hours. Upon inspecting the pages closer, he recognized his own handwriting. Curvy letters had transformed the page from a blank canvas to a masterpiece composed only of words, holding important clues in its bindings.

_Loop 48 __–__ I'm tired. The pain… The pain of holding so many memories in my head makes it hard to think, so I try to forget them and rely on only the writings and guidelines from before. But there are so many solutions that I have not covered or thought about yet. How long have I been trapped here, forced to repeat the same loop again and again? Months? Years? It's as if time is lost to me here, and all of these clocks… Their ticking haunts me even now, mocking me__.__ I have to restrain myself from destroying them._

_It's so hard to keep acting as I always do. It's as if I have to keep a mask up of my old self in order to keep playing dumb. So strange… This feeling. It's as if I am changing. I don't like it! If I get out of here, will I become a new person? Will they hate me because I hid so much from them? I'm scared… Will I be able to change the outcome? Or will I be stuck in this vicious cycle until I go insane?_

_I look back at all of the mistakes that I had made in the past, and how many times I had to do the same actions over and over, just to find the right way to prevent everyone from dying. It makes me wonder. I'm barely able to deal with seeing everyone die in front of me time and time again. How would any of the others fare if they were in my shoes? When I first read Mr. Ryuuzu's journal entries when in the first loop, I began to realize that someone had been here before, that there could be a way to prevent them from dying__.__ But as the loops pass, my resolve to see this through is diminishing. Will I end up traveling down the same road he had, unable to save anyone in the end? I refuse to simply sit by and watch my friends die as he had; laughing insanely as he only saved enough of his friends to enter a new loop. Just the thought of that makes me sick... I refuse to let it come to that. I will not lose my sanity to this creature; to Steve__.__ I… I can't let them die. I just… can't…_

"What do we do now? We have to go back, right?" England's voice startled him, drawing him away from the journal's text. Slowly looking up in realization, he frowned and nodded, looking down to wipe his eyes before he picked up the journal, having a half thought on just leaving it there and giving it all up, so tired of failing again and again. But seeing his friends all dead… It only strengthened his decision.

"Si… But I need your help." There was only one problem… In order to go back the right way, they had to get to that clock. The grandfather clock that lay past the cell where the rest of those monsters came from had been the only way in all of those time loops. But, there weren't enough people to get there; they had been on their way to it after all, when the last two of their party died. Was there nothing they could do to start a new loop and set things right? He had already written down everything he had done, as he had for every time loop before him… This time, maybe he would be able to get it right. Even if it was at the cost of himself. But that was only if he was sure that they had the key, and if they could go back now.

Oblivious to the inner turmoil of the Italian nation, the Englishman glanced over his shoulders, wondering what help he needed. He wouldn't admit to himself that he was nervous. If what Italy had said was true, if they could find another way to go back without using that old clock… Without warning, the temperature seemed to drop around them, tension thickening the air. Eyes widening, the island nation clenched his spellbook and pivoted on his heels, green magic glowing at his fingertips. The magic pooled into a magic fireball before it shot towards the gray skinned creature before him.

"It's back." The Italian stiffened, scrambling upwards as dread filled him from head to toe. Not yet. Why did it have to be back so soon? He had no plan yet! Before he could tell England to move back, he twisted around to come face to face with it. He gulped nervously, grabbing the other nation and backpedaling. They couldn't kill it. If they tried, then they would end up like his two allied friends and the cycle would end forever. He couldn't let it end here!

A heavy breath emitted from the mouth of the creature, blood dripping from the hands of the creature and a wide toothy smile adorned its face. To the Italian, it looked as if it was savoring the victory of finally being able to claim its prize after so many loops, a long blackish tongue licking its lips in anticipation. He kept stumbling backwards with England until he finally felt his back connect with something that was solid.

No…

Turning just slightly to see what it was, he realized that they were back to back against a wall. Italy gritted his teeth, his features darkening to shoot a death glare at the creature, as if challenging it to try and eat him. Through the many loops where he had almost fallen prey to Steve, he learned that he had to put his usual way of surrendering aside; he had learned that in order to survive, he had to fight. There was no way he would go down in this loop. He hadn't yet, and he was going to keep it like that. He leaned over to say something to England, eyes never leaving the tall form of the monster.

"Follow me. And don't fall behind."

As soon as the monster tried to take a step forward, Italy raised his hand, faint blue tendrils of magic shimmering at his fingertips. There was no way he'd let England waste more of his magic on this thing. He thrust his hand forward and the magic left his hands to strike his opponent. The now glowing strands shifted their hue to red, ensnaring themselves around the monster as the shapes of magic runes flickered in and out of existence above him. England stared at the now weakened monster, understanding that even if it tried to attack them, its power would be weaker than it usually is. As long as the red strands held it, it couldn't cause too much damage, but they would only hold for a few seconds.

"Run!" The Italian darted off as Steve swiped at them, managing only to tear off pieces of cloth from Italy's military jacket. Hissing when he felt the claws pass over his flesh, barely touching the delicate skin, he made sure to keep an eye behind him as they ran to the safest place that he could remember – the bathroom with that strange toilet.

Their footsteps echoed throughout the mansion, hearing ticking sounds from every unlocked room. He fought the urge to cover his ears. That aggravatingly simple sound… It seemed to have haunted him ever since he came across those clocks in the first place, unaware of their importance. Somehow they seemed to be getting louder, or maybe it was just his imagination. Shaking that strange thought away, he continued to run, turning the corner and spying the two bathroom doors. Pointing to it, he opened the door, giving only one spare glance to see a grey hand sneaking around the wall, one black eye coming into view. Shivering despite trying not to, he entered the bathroom and locked the door, panting.

"I need you to use your magic." The request was a little absurd, considering that he remembered several people telling him to conserve it, especially that loud mouthed American. However, even with the request and pestering of trying to save it until it mattered, he only had half of what he needed to really have an impact. His eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. What did the Italian need it for? Leaning heavily against the wall next to the door, the blond caught his breath, his chest rising and falling as his lungs worked overtime to gather the precious oxygen that it craved. He finally looked over to the Italian, raising one of his eyebrows.

"I'm listening." Italy knew it was tough to ask this of the Englishman… For so many loops, he had used his magic to save someone, even him at one point. The magic he used usually cost him his life, but… He knew if there had been another way, then he would have gone down that path. Steeling himself, the Italian straightened up, walking over to the sink. His steps suggested to England that he was hesitant to ask, and the expression that came over him while he stared into the dust-covered mirror was something that made him uneasy. If one of the happiest nations could look almost broken, so hopeless…

"I've told you before. I've been through this so many times, and every time, I've lost. I'm determined to end this once and for all." Italy's expression changed from somber to determined in an instant, an emotion raging in those bright amber eyes, something that he had never seen before. He glared at his reflection, clenching his fist tightly. The change the northern Italian had gone through was shocking. Upon looking at him, there was almost nothing left of that surrendering, smiling nation the nations knew so well. It was… very unsettling.

"It would have worked better if we had gotten to that grandfather clock. But we have to try anyways. If we combine the journal's magic with yours, there should be a possibility that we can rewind the time far enough that we would just about to enter where the mansion grounds begin at that gate." England thought back to when they passed that gate. He nodded. It could work, but there were no guarantees. But they had nothing left to lose.

"We'll tr-" England was cut off by the sound of claws tearing into wood. Italy jumped and stared at the door, confusion written on his face. It wasn't possible. In all of the other time loops, there had never been an incident in which the monster had tried to get into the bathroom. It had almost been a brief safe haven countless times. Turning his head, the two nations' eyes met, understanding in an instant that they didn't had that much time. Facing each other, the two nodded.

"Tornare indietro l'orologio. Correggere i nostri errori con questo incantesimo e ci riporta." The latin words flowed from England's lips, holding his spellbook in his hands. From the middle of the book, strange rays of greenish light were emitting outwards, wrapping around the last two nations. Underneath the Italian's breath, a chant of an unknown language harmonized with the British man's spell. Around him, emitting from the now open journal, soft bluish light swirled up around them, combining with his companion's. The two could hear the door starting to splinter, the wood groaning as if in pain from having claws digging into it. Italy's heart raced, wishing, no, praying that the spell would work if used with England's magic. He had seen from previous encounters how powerful he was once his magic was at its peak, and even with his magic at half strength...

If it worked, they would never have entered this horrible place…

England, however, was having doubts if this would work. It wasn't as if he didn't trust the younger Italian. After what happened in this mansion, he knew he had to follow his lead if he wanted to live, but what about the possibility that it won't work? He could only imagine how Italy felt having to relive seeing everyone die over and over. Just the thought that they, nations, had died as simple as humans did… Hearing a loud crack, the two nations quickly turned their gazes upon the door, still continuing their spells. There was a hole in the door now, just enough so one of those eyes could stare hungrily in. The monster roared and tried to break the wood even more, splinters flying as the stench of blood drifted in. It was revolting. The magic around them half solidified into strands of almost translucent magic, wrapping around them with a warm glow.

They were going to make it… Right?

Immediately he sensed that something was terribly wrong. The combined magic began to crackle and spark, darkening into sinister colors. Emerald and amber hues widened, not understanding what was going on. Was it possible that the mansion was even intercepting their magic now?

"What's going on?"

"Veh, I don't know! This never happened before!" The Italian looked around in a panic as the magic refused to let them leave the circle. The ticking of the clocks returned once more in full force, causing Italy to drop to one knee, hand clamped over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound. Why was it so intent on haunting him? The other nation couldn't hear the ticking, placing a hand on his shoulder to make sure he was alright. The roar of Steve was heard over the sound, drawing their attention to the almost destroyed door.

It wasn't enough to say that Feliciano's heart almost stopped. The magic expanded around them suddenly, the light in the room blowing out and leaving them in darkness. With the magic casting little illumination until it began to glow white, they saw the remnants of the door shatter beneath the attack of the creature. They tried to step back but found themselves unable to. The unstable magic exploded and threw them against the wall, away from Steve.

As everything started to fade to black, the last thing the two nations saw was a pair of crimson and sapphire eyes.

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TRANSLATIONS

Tornare indietro l'orologio. Correggere i nostri errori con questo incantesimo e ci riporta. - Turn back the clock. Correct our mistakes with this spell and take us back. (Latin)


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again, my lovely readers! I've finally been able to update this thing, but I had struggled with it, because I didn't believe that it was as bloody as I wanted it. I still think it should be more gory, but as you can tell, I'm not much of one to write gore, even when it is called for. What do you think will happen in this lovely fanfic of mine? Who knows what horror awaits us. It is the mansion after all~ Enjoy! Oh, and I do need a name for 2P Steve, so any suggestions would be wonderful! If used, I guess I can let you give me a small idea that I'll use sometime in the fic! Providing it's reasonable of course.

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It was infuriating, absolutely infuriating.

Before him on the ground lay the mutilated bodies of the ones who he knew as his allies. Japan and Germany. Angrily, ruby eyes narrowed and a dark gleam fluttered across the Italian nation's face. It was the work of that monster, naturally. The two were almost ripped to shreds, blood splattered everywhere; the ceiling, the walls, the ground. The German had deep claw marks in his chest and stomach area, his intestines ripped out and thrown down the hallway like ribbons of ripped tinsel. His heart looked as if the monster had chomped down on it like a snack, only to decide that it didn't want the rest of it. It had been evident that the Japanese man had been smashed into the walls several times after his throat and eyes were gouged out, missing an arm and portions of his leg. It was a gruesome sight, but all of the nations had seen this nature of warfare before, especially against each other.

Closing his eyes, the Italian took a deep breath. They had been right behind them but… they must have turned left instead of right, towards the piano room… Damnit! He should have seen this coming… Why didn't he make them run ahead of him so he knew they wouldn't fall behind? No matter what had done to save them, his choices ended up leading them to their deaths… It wasn't as if he didn't care about his allies, in fact, Japan was one of his closest friends, while Germany and him constantly butted heads over training and war time strategies in a love-hate relationship. But they all got along sometimes, even if he constantly enjoyed threatening anyone around him with his knife.

Besides… he did make that promise to get everyone out alive in the first loop, as much as he hated to admit it. So easy it had been to almost leave them dead in the mansion as one by one they fell to the damn creature. With his fast feet, he easily managed to avoid it, and now… Now he found himself going through so many loops of time just to save the nations of the world. When the hell did he care about the others? If anything, he could have ruled his country without the threat of a war overwhelming his country. The other pieces of land mass and their rulers would have been much tamer without their personifications… But what fun would that be, the only representation of a country meant that there would be no one to bicker with, to train with.

Clenched in his hand was his knife and in the other, was the journal he had used so many times to turn back the clock and rewrite time. The nation wanted to throw the journal away, to tear it up and let the monster destroy him. But that was not how the Italian played, no, he was going to kill the monster before it even had time to realize that he had company. He would make it pay tenfold and suffer so it would know true pain; the wrath and anger of a nation. But how could he make it so the others weren't in the way, so that no one else could interfere with his plans? The Italian slipped into deep thought, trying to figure out a plan that wouldn't get them all killed again. The nations could never formulate a plan without trying to outdue each other, tension always thickening the air. He could practically slice it with an unsharpened knife…

He swore this nightmare was worse than a regular world meeting on steroids…

Behind him, the English nation waited. An uneasy smile was on the gentleman's face, the tips of his lips twitching as if they wanted to frown. Bright blue eyes could hardly focus on the deceased nations on the ground; instead, they were looking over his shoulder just in case that monster popped up again. From previous experiences, it was safe to assume that he would show up when they least expected it, and this time, for them as its last prizes, or in other words, meal.

Pushing down the guilt and fury, the Italian opened the journal, flipping to a random page. The harsh strokes of ink littered the pages, the handwriting belonging to Italy. In the confines of the journal, he had recorded everything he had done, managing to plan ahead and even documented the behavior of the monster. His eyes searched for the entry that started on the page, lips twisting in a dark scowl.

_Loop 23 – At least I think this was the twenty-third time. My mind is already becoming weary of this place. I'm having trouble remembering things that I had written before hand at times; it's as if I am fading away. But that's impossible. I am a nation… But our statuses as a nation, as I had written before, have no place here. When I entered the mansion, I had acted as I always did, continuing the pattern from the beginning. Everything went as planned; avoiding all the places they had first died… But then…_

_When I decided to split up the group, I sent Canada and England to the piano room instead of Japan and Prussia. The former managed to survive, but England once more used his magic. He got injured, and they were ambushed right when we arrived to help them. They were used as bait… This creature is getting smarter. As if it was studying how we - _

The book snapped shut, Italy not wanting to read anymore of that. Somehow it was correct, what he had written. That damn thing was starting to catch onto Italy's plan; if it did and started to predict what he would do… Then it would be all over for them. He had to make sure that it did not happen. It was a simple creature, running on instincts. He was a nation, stronger and more intelligent than that thing… He just had to get one step ahead of it and put it into its place..

"Dearie, what will we do now? You said before that you have to go back again. You and I are the only ones left." The blond raised an eyebrow in questioning. Although the Italian had refused to divulge too much information on what had been happening to the group when they first walked into the mansion, he had finally told the remaining three members of his group about what was going on. Somehow that had not been enough; mistakes were still made and one by one, the nations around him kept getting slaughtered. Apparently telling them from the start wouldn't have helped them. It was interesting to see the sadistic yet playful nation want to save the rest of the nations, even the ones he absolutely despised, such as America.

"You won't remember anything when we go back, veh…" the smaller nation replied, narrowing his eyes as he looked down. His verbal tic, usually suppressed, slipped out, signaling how much this had taken out of him. Weariness had overtaken the northern Italian; it was obvious even to the other nations before everyone started to get killed. There had been a deep scowl on his face, and he was more agitated than normal, as if tired of something. And when he had fought with the creature, his fighting style had been bloodier, crueler. It was strange how pleasure he had been taking from slicing into that disgusting monster. England had noticed the peculiar ways his fellow nation was acting after a while, but wasn't sure what had been wrong. And now… everything that Italy had done made sense. It was why he had stopped them from going into certain rooms, and why he had stayed near the door. The monster mainly wanted him, as if hating the fact that he had escaped it so many times.

"Perhaps there is a spell to help with th-" Suddenly the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. Before the Italian could ask why he had stopped talking, England turned around swiftly and held up his hand. Instantly a ball of swirling blue magic shot from his palm and scorched the skin of a tall black creature that loomed above the two. Still fresh blood dripped down from long jagged claws, pieces of flesh and organ bits sticking to its yellowed surface. Eyes the color of molten iron stared down at a certain nation, while a mouthful of sharp teeth twisted upwards in a malicious smile. Ruby eyes darted around to lock onto it, raising his knife up. Not now… He still needed to think of a way to finish this. If only he never challenged them to enter… If he could go back to that point, before they entered the mansion grounds. Wait.

That was it!

"Get back!" Italy snapped at England. To hell if he was going to let him die. He needed him and his magic if his new plan would work. He knew it wanted him, the bearer of the journal, the one who got away. But if his fellow nation attempted to get in the way, the monster would have had no problem tearing him apart. Hearing the urgency behind that harsh tone, the island nation retreated to the Italian's side, the magic still glowing around him, ready to be unleashed as a weapon. The creature let out an eerie growl, a drop of yellowish drool plopping onto the ground.

"Do you have a plan?" England asked, wrinkling his nose at the stench of the drool. Although the Italian somehow got around with the sometimes psychotic Englishman, due to their unique ways of cooking, he couldn't fight off the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he had a damn plan. That was how he got them this far! He had no time to spare glancing at the other nation. The creature leaped at them, claws outstretched to slash into their bodies. However, the Italian was ready for it, he only needed to distract the beast and wound it before they could escape. Darting underneath the claws, he swiped the sharp edge of his knife against the chest of the beast, feeling blood splatter everywhere, mixing in with the deceased nations' life essence. The pained roar of the monster echoed through the hallways as the Italian retreated backwards to prevent himself from being attacked back. Lady luck was not on his side. He felt teeth chomp down on his shoulder, one hand having caught him in its grasp. He let out a yell, feeling flesh being torn from muscle and bone. His mind swam with bloody stars twirling in his vision and his hand rose. It wasn't as if the monster had now just tasted his blood. He had almost been caught several times before.

"That hurt!" Swirling magic, dark amber in color, appeared around his fingers. They shot forward and wrapped around his opponent. The monster roared as the magic shifted colors to a dark red and cut into it, slowing its movement as different shapes of runes flickered around it. Another roar sounded and he managed to slip from its grip, staggering to England. They only had a small fraction of time until it would be able to move again, but any damage it could do would be reduced. If only he had cast it sooner.

"RUN! Get to the bathroom!" Italy yelled, ignoring the fact that blood was pouring from his wound. With one last glance to the monster, the two nations took off, dashing to the only safe haven in the mansion. The bathroom with that strange toilet was the only place they could cast this combined spell… They had to make it!

_Tick tock._

_Tick tock._

_Tick tock._

Gripping one side of his head, the Italian hissed. The clocks from every room seemed to suddenly start ticking, the sound echoing and filling the mansion. If he listened closely, he probably could even hear the ever deep ticking of the grandfather clock deep within the mansion. Why did that insistent noise constantly haunt him, teasing and taunting him for his failures, for his inability to make the right choices no matter what he did? The sound only got louder, pounding its mechanical rhythm into his head like a metronome.

_Tick tock._

Italy cursed himself. Why had he not realized the importance of the clocks in the earlier loops? WHY? It was quite obvious from the fact that he had to get to the grandfather clock, the red numbers on the ground in that one room, and how he had to go back through time, that those clocks in every room had a meaning to them. But… No matter how annoying they were, he couldn't break them. He had to bear the weight of all of this by himself. Flinching and nearly stumbling from the grating sound, he felt a hand grip his free wrist, guiding him through the hallway. He glanced up to see the Englishman ahead of him. He shook the thoughts out of his head. He had to focus or else he would get distracted and get killed. He turned the corner, keeping the other nation ahead of him as he jerked his hand away. He didn't need to be babied. He lived through worse.

Pointing to the first door they came to, England opened it. Italy glanced back just in time to see a black mass start to turn the corner, blood, his blood, dropping from its maw. Those iron grey eyes stared hungrily at its prey, wanting to devour its prize at long last. Glaring, he darted in and closed the door. Panting, he slid to the ground near the sink, holding the bite mark carefully, trying to stop the bleeding. Glancing up, crimson eyes noticed how the smile that usually was on the English nation's lips was almost gone. He sighed, rolling his eyes and gripped the knife and journal close.

"Let me get straight to the point. I need you to use your magic to help me turn back time. It's as simple as that." He stated that as bluntly as he could, getting tired of having to hide everything from the rest of the nations. It was tiring. The Englishman stared at him as he tried to get his breath back, tilting his head slightly. Hadn't he been told numerous times that he had to conserve his magic? Too many times had he apparently lost his life when protecting the American, or to provide help to any other nation. Luckily he had managed to still have around half. Not wanting to become a burden, he had used most of it to try and help America but… England looked away, the tips of his lips dipping down slightly. That idiot went and got himself killed, torn limb from limb; literally. If only he listened to them instead of trying to show the monster who was the true 'villain' as he loved to say.

"I'm listening, dearie." The unusually colored blue eyes turn to look into his, wishing to know what he wanted to try. They didn't have any other choice, so he hoped that the Italian knew what he was doing, for both of their sakes. He knew he could trust him on this. Italy had been through this before, but whatever he had in mind, he wanted to hear it. Italy on the other hand was unsure if his plan would work. It was so much to ask of England, especially after how his magic was what got him killed. For so many loops, he was one of the first to get killed, and had even helped save Italy. And if he used it all at once and died, it was over. He couldn't do it by himself.

The crimson eyes nation pushed himself up onto his feet, slowly making his way over to the cracked dust covered mirror. The almost hesitant steps suggested that something was wrong, something he had been holding back. He wiped the film away so that he could see through it, blood smearing onto the surface instead. Through the streaks, his reflection stared back at him, eyes weary and so strange. He hardly looked like himself at this point, his regular façade breaking down. He was getting desperate. Red liquid slowly dripped down his arm, drenching his outfit. His vision was getting hazy and his arm was numbing from all the pain.

"Like I told you and a few of the others, before the idiots got themselves killed again, that I've been through this numerous times… Each loop I've failed to save all of you. I want to end it now." The playful flame that usually burned in his eyes darkened and evolved into a raging inferno of hate and determination. This was his game now and he was going to make up the rules! He clenched his fist and banged it against the mirror, shattering it even more. Shards clattered to the sink. England stepped closer to him, the smile starting to disappear. How many memories of these loops was the other holding onto? He looked so desperate and trapped, so unlike the playful yet sadistic nation he truly was. Where was that spark, that confident attitude?

"Italy…"

"We would have had a better chance if we had gotten to that grandfather clock. But there is no time or way that we could try to get to it now. So now… We have to combine your magic with the journal's. Perhaps we can rewind the time back far enough to the point where we were about to enter through that gate. You remember that thing right? America had bashed it in before we even managed to read what it said." At that thought, the Italian rolled his eyes. He had to show off, didn't he? It was like he was trying to be the main character in one of Japan's manga. The island nation thought about what he said, looking down at his spell book. He hadn't thought of using it like that, but perhaps there was enough magic to help power up the spell. He nodded.

"We can try i-"

Just when he was about to finish his sentence, the door almost buckled underneath the sudden attack of the creature. Splinters went flying with each blow, cracks appearing as the wood screamed in protest. It was quite obvious that the door could not handle much more. The North Italian couldn't understand how this was happening; this was supposed to be the safest place, a haven where the monster couldn't enter. In all the loops he's been in, this had never happened before! Cursing in Italian, the younger nation turned to face England. The two held up their respective books, knowing they had to hurry and cast the two spells.

"Tornare indietro l'orologio. Correggere i nostri errori con questo incantesimo e ci riporta." England was staring down at his book, holding up a hand to focus the magic upwards, away from the pages that it was being drawn from. Slowly the dark sapphire colored tendrils swirled up and around them; a sort of magic field covering them. Italy had his eyes close, holding the opened journal with both hands, chanting in a language that was foreign to him. It wasn't Latin, or Italian, it was a strange tongue that he suddenly knew when he first picked up the journal. Twisting out of the words that were on the pages, several strands of his magic began to grow, combining with the Englishman's.

They were going to make it, he swore on his status as a nation!

England glanced over to his companion, wondering exactly how many times he had to see everyone die. He knew the sadistic nation would have enjoyed bloodshed, seeing it as a game. But it was as if he refused to let someone else kill the nations that he loved to fight with. He almost furrowed his eyebrows. He always had avoided talking about how long this had been going on, even when Japan and Germany was still alive and with them. Behind him, there was a loud crack and a portion of the door fell to the ground, torn away by the claws. The monster's two eyes stared through the gaping hold, some of its wide fang-filled mouth showing. Two sets of eyes shot to where the door was, lips still moving to continue the spell. They were on guard; their freedom was so close, they could taste it. The room went silent once the spell was finished, the crackling of the magic all that was heard. Another crack filled the air as the monster snarled again.

"I thought you sai-"

"I know! He never was able to get in before!" Italy snapped, looked frustrated and slightly uneasy. He remembered that this was a safe place, but somehow the monster was getting in… The smell of raw meat and rancid breath flowed into the room, causing both of the nations to wrinkle their noses up. It was beyond disgusting. The strands around them started to solidified, translucent.

The spell was almost complete. They were going to make it.

A chill swept through the air and the two nations instantly shivered. What was that? It hadn't been from the monster, so… Their eyes were drawn up to where the magic twisted and turned around them. Instead of their respective colors, the hues had shifted to muddier colors. Sparks shot into the air and the strands began to unravel, slashing into the walls and ceiling angrily. Luckily the magic hadn't hit them, but this shouldn't have been happening. The two attempted to step back but found themselves unable to leave the circle of magic that surrounded them.

"What's going on?" England yelled over the loud humming that began to rise. The mansion couldn't be responsible for this… could it? The Italian looked around, not understanding what was going on; it was expected that something could have happened, but was the spell backfiring on them somehow?

"How should I know? I've never tried this before!" Cursing, the Italian tried to step back, but the two nations found themselves unable to move from the circle of magic around them. Breaking through the humming of energy, the ticking came back full force, assaulting his ear drums. He let out a pained cry, overwhelmed for a second as he fell to one knee. No matter what he did, he just couldn't get rid of them, could he? Why was he cursed to always hear the clock's mechanical rhythm?

A piece of the door's wooden paneling went flying as a claw punched itself through it. The irate roar of the creature froze the nations' blood in their veins. It tried to get in, drool dripping down its gaping maw, desperate to finally lay claim to its prize after so long. The sound echoed throughout the small room, causing their ears to ring painfully.

The Italian's hope of being able to escape was dropping drastically. The magic suddenly expanded from around them, doubling in size as it became even more unstable. The magic struck the lights, shattering the fragile objects. The room was bathed in darkness with the magic only casting a murky light. Italy's heart nearly stopped when the door finally gave way to the creature's brutal assault. A large grin was on its mouth as it scrambled towards them, the ground cracking underneath it. Suddenly the magic's color started to increase to white, slowing down everything around them. They closed their eyes to prevent themselves from being blinded and were suddenly slammed into the wall when the magic suddenly exploded.

As the white light faded to black as they fell unconscious, a pair of amber and emerald eyes were seen in the darkness.


End file.
